Saying Goodbye
by piccolina789
Summary: Time to check off that last box. Time to start a new life. Don't let the title fool you, fluff is greater than angst. GSR.


Sara sighed as she picked up a framed photograph that was lying on her stripped, empty bed. Her fingers made streaks on the glass as she traced over the figures contained within the wooden frame. Warrick, tall and handsome, grinning widely at the camera. Greg, goofy and lovable, pulling a face at the same time the picture was snapped. Nick, reliable and kind, his well muscled arm around her own shoulder. She felt a pang of yearning when she glanced at the wide smile on the face of her photographic self. Things had gotten so complicated since then.

And, the only figure standing to her left, was a smiling Grissom. Relaxed and confident, his arm also around Sara, and the smile on his face beaming. She let her finger and her eyes linger on him for a moment more before packing the frame into the already stuffed box sitting on her mattress. She gave a small grunt as she lifted the heavy box and carried it out into the hallway, placing it on top of the four others that already stacked there.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, glancing around the apartment. The walls, floors and everything in between was bare. For the first few years, she hadn't put much effort into the place, hoping, foolishly, that she would be moving elsewhere shortly after her transfer from the San Francisco lab. When certain events didn't unfold as planned, she had begun decorating, in a sort of vengeful retaliation. But walls painted or not, the apartment had been her home since she arrived in Vegas, and now, she was leaving it.

She nudged the bottommost box with her toe. Heavy as it was, it had been surprisingly easy to pack up her life. She wasn't a packrat, and most of the furniture had come with the apartment when she'd signed the lease. The boxes mostly contained clothes, sheets and towels and dozens upon dozens of books.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her stupor. She edged around the boxes to crack open her door. Drew, her 80-year-old neighbor's great-grandson whom had been volunteered to help move boxes, stood there.

"Hi," he said, a bit awkwardly. They had only ever met once, maybe twice.

"Hey," she said, gesturing him in.

"This is it?"

She nodded. "That's it."

Drew tested the weight of the boxes, the muscles in his arms bulging, before he took the entire stack and strode out the door.

"Taxi's downstairs waiting," she called after him. "Thanks!"

She stared after him, a million thoughts rushing through her head at once. She had never been cautious, per se, but had also never been one to throw caution to the wind, either. But this, this she had to do. It had been a long time coming, and she knew if she didn't act now, she would never take the step. It was time. In fact, she should probably get moving right now, before she still had a spare minute to change her mind and rushed back into the safety of her second home, the lab.

Drew popped his head in once more, before slipping back into his great-grandmother's door marked 3C.

"Taxi's packed," he said. "It's waiting for you."

"Okay," Sara smiled back. "Thanks for helping me out."

"No problem," Drew replied. He paused a second. "Good luck."

Sara was too taken aback to respond to him. She watched him vacate his place in her doorway. She had only spoken to 3C's resident, Betty, a handful of times, although she knew she would often sit by her window and watch the residents of the apartment building come and go. Had she noticed some kind of change in Sara's demeanor? The way she walked or the expression on her face? Did she have some kind of idea how many changes were in store for her?

She heard the faint honk of a horn from downstairs. The taxi driver was getting anxious. No doubt, he had picked her up from the lab, driven all the way to the apartment, only to be told to wait. She hadn't packed beforehand. No, this was a split second decision. But she knew it had to be today.

Apartment key in hand, Sara took one last sweep through what was soon to be her ex-home. She walked through the kitchen, her hand trailing the countertops and over the backs of the tall chairs. Nick had sat there countless times, teasing her as she burned veggie burgers or lasagna, or, once, steak quesadillas. She had enticed him with the rare offer after his ordeal several months ago, when she knew the last thing he wanted was to be alone in his apartment. And frankly, she hadn't wanted to be alone either. She could picture him there clear as day, perched on the counter in the corner of the cabinets, cracking joke after joke about Sara's culinary skills until he would relent and reassure her, throwing out way too many compliments Sara knew weren't true as he scarfed down the burnt strips of tortilla. From nearly the moment she had set foot in Vegas, Sara and Nick had been there for each other. Things would have been a heap less complicated if she had fallen for him, but… you can't control where the heart takes you. And her heart had made its mind long before her red-eye flight from San Fran to Vegas landed.

She continued her meander through the apartment, and pushed open door to the empty room she had called her bedroom. She had spent many a night curled up there with a forensic journal, or, more often that she'd like to remember, the book Grissom had given her a few Christmases ago. As her eyes swept over the empty room, she couldn't help but smile at a faded red stain peeking out from the corner of her dresser. A week into Greg's field training, he had faltered. A tough case and a few screw-ups had made him second guess his decision leave the lab and becoming a field mouse. With an encouraging squeeze of his hand, Sara had invited him over to her place for a beer or two. Sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, on either side of a large deep dish pizza, a few beers turned into a case of beers, and had concluded with nearly draining an entire bottle of red wine. In his buzzed state, Greg had lunged towards Sara, arms outstretched for a hug, and his elbow knocked over the remnants of the wine. They had laughed themselves silly for at least ten minutes over the mishap, while the wine sank into the carpet. By the time they finally gathered the sense to clean the mess up, the red wouldn't come out of the stain completely, and Greg and Sara had resorted to pushing the dresser over a few inches so the landlord wouldn't see. As she closed the bedroom door, Sara had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud.

She turned, face-to-face with the empty living room. Framed pictures had been taken off the purple walls, the yellow curtains packed between her sets of sheets. Gone too were her desk, chair and couch, but staring at the room, she could picture where they had all been just a few hours ago. Grissom had sat on that couch months ago, holding her hand as she poured her heart and cried her eyes out. He had sat there again, a few weeks later after her close encounter with Adam Trent. They hadn't done much that night, just talked and played a movie that Sara barely watched. But his being there had meant the world to her. Somehow, he had sensed her unspoken fear of being along that night.

It had taken only another few weeks before he was there again, in the fear and relief and mess of emotion that had taken place after Nick's kidnapping and subsequent rescue. Sara's apartment was Grissom's second stop of the night, preceded only by the entire team's trip to the hospital. They had sat together late into the night, holding hands, still shaking and too relieved beyond belief. Her heart ached for the memories she was leaving behind.

Downstairs, the increasingly impatient taxi driver was laying on his horn. With newfound resolve, Sara crossed the apartment to the door and closed it behind her. She stuck her key underneath that mat of her landlord, skipped down the steps and left her old home behind. She was leaving memories, leaving home, but she was leaving to gain so much more. So much ahead of her. New experiences, new memories and a new life. She was ready for it. She had to be.

She climbed in the back of the cab and told the driver the address of her last and final stop. As the taxi pulled from her drive and made its way down the street she had traveled so many times, she resisted the urge to look back for once last glimpse. No more looking back. She would only be looking forward.

They arrived in no time. She took a deep breath as she stared out the window. Time to check off that last box. Time to start a new life.

Her taxi driver stacked her boxes on the curb, and she thanked him as she handed over a wad of folded bills. As she watched the yellow cab pull away, she felt a warm hand slip around her waist and smelled the familiar scent of aftershave. The hand turned her around until she was face-to-face, nose-to-nose with the man she loved more than anything else in the world.

"Hi, honey," he said softly.

He kissed her nose, then dipped down to kiss her more deeply, his hand on her chin. She relished in the familiar tickle of his beard scratching against her face. She pressed closer to him, burying her head in his shoulder and not caring that they were standing in plain sight.

"Are you ready?" he asked into her hair.

She smiled as she pulled away.

"Are _you_ ready?"

He brushed a hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Honey, I've been waiting for this longer than you know."

With another lingering smile, Grissom took the top box off her pile and carried it up the steps and inside his townhouse. Her new home.

She was ready to say hello.

* * *

**This sufficiently distracted me from a German history essay tonight! Let me know if my lack of studying was worth it ;) **

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
